84, Charing Cross Road

A true story in letters by Helene Hanff

Stop for a minute and think, just think, about how many books there are in the world, how many books have been written or compiled and published. Even for the well-read (which I am according to multiple facebook and Barnes & Noble polls, thank you very much), the amount of books any one person has read compared to the amount currently in print is like a speck of pollen compared to a mountain. Or a Hoo to Horton. Tiny. That's how I feel when I come across a book like this.

You've probably at least heard of this book, or the play or movie adapted from it, but I am apparently completely out of it. Or I only read what they told me to in college. In one way it's kind of sad, and frustrating, and in another way, hooray! Think of all the books I have yet to read! I just hope I find all the good ones. As usual, the book club section at my public library is helping me with this. While waiting for my stack of beach reads to appear in my mailbox, I took the kids to the library and entrusted the seven year old with the life of the two year old while I perused the book club shelves, standing far back so I could read the titles at the bottom since I can't bend down over my seven and a half months pregnant belly. I got some weird glances, but hey, I am definitely not the weirdest character at my library on any given day.

I picked this one because A) It is short so I could read it before the mail order ones came and B) It is light, so I could talk the seven year old into carrying it in her library bag while I wrangled the two year old into the car and C) It looks British. What I was assigned to read in college was mostly British so it's a comfort area for me.

After all that, lo and behold, when I got home, I discovered this gem! It's a collection of letters between Helene Hanff, a New York freelance writer, and Frank Doel, an employee at a London used book store, beginning with a book order and ending up a truly darling friendship, cemented by a love of books. Hanff also includes letters she received from Doel's wife and other employees at the store, giving a fairly good picture of their wonderful relationship of cat and mouse, American and Londoner, blatant humor and dry humor. At times the letters are laugh out loud funny, as Hanff writes in all capitals when she accuses Doel of sending bad books and he replies with formal, understated jabs. Other times you want to cry at the sheer humanity that the people in the correspondence, who don't even know each other, demonstrate in the post-war world of 1949 to 1969.

Some short thoughts on a short book (I read it in a day):

I now want more than ever to revisit London, as Hanff continuously plans but never does in Doel's lifetime. I was sad to read that the bookstore is no longer (the building's not even there apparently) but there is so much more to see and show my husband! I won't waste time on this next trip going to the stupid Millenium Dome because some boy I like is going there.

I do not ever want to watch the movie, which I read implies a romantic relationship between them.  Since Doel is married, I don't want that alleged infidelity to sully this dear slice of life. Also Anthony Hopkins plays him and I still see him as Hannibal Lector, not a nice man in a book shop.

I feel at once validated that I knew so many of the authors that Hanff requests from Doel, but since they're all British I feel embarrassed that I haven't read most of them, but since they're all really old I don't actually care that much in the end.

The Paris Wife

Novel (ish) by Paula McLain

Novelish? What does that mean? It means another "true novel," one written in novel form with plot and dialogue, but based on letters and journals by real life people. In this case, Ernest Hemingway and his first wife, Hadley Richardson, are the real people. That sentence sounds false to me, though, because this book brings these real people to life more than they ever could have been in a historical account, and because Hadley becomes so much more than Hemingway's "first wife." That may be how history remembers her, but not so for anyone who reads this book.

I have to admit not knowing much about Hemingway or his writing. I know from literature classes that his writing was revolutionary in its simplicity and starkness and truth, and from pop culture movies that he was part of a hard-partying American artist community in the 1920's in Paris. I've only read a few of his stories, though, and none of his novels because I find his writing too sharp and dark. I guess it goes hand in hand with his depression/alcoholism and PTSD from World War I. Not for me, thanks.

The idea of this book, however, brings to life not just Hemingway but mostly his first wife, Hadley. They have similar upper middle class backgrounds in the United States but move to Paris for his writing career shortly after marrying. She keeps him grounded for a while, supporting his career and moving him toward the right decisions with friends and finances, but the very fact that she is his "first wife" tells us that eventually they divorce. There are three very short scenes from Hemingway's point of view that hint to us that it's his infidelity that drives the wedge, in addition to Hadley's own voice telling what she wished she'd known then and so on. You know from the beginning that this will have a sad ending.

What I wish I knew more is how much McLain's writing style mimics Hemingway's. Like I said, I haven't read very much by him and don't want to, mostly for the content. But this book seems to copy what I understand is his style in that it's very much to the point and journalistic, a simple retelling of events, while somehow also weaving a picture of the dazzling European scenes, the hectic and confusing post-war times, the conflicting emotions, the lavishness of their neighbors contrasted with the poverty that is their life. It's kind of remarkable.

I don't think I'll be reading Hemingway as a result of this book, though. I've had enough of him; he might be an amazing historical and literary figure but he's also a total ass. He makes his wife blame herself for his indiscretion and sucks up all the air and life around him. He WAS her life and I'm tired of thinking about him when I should be thinking about her. So there.

One thing I wonder is: how do they go on so many vacations even though they bemoan their poverty all the time? And hire a housekeeper and a nanny? Is it the place or the time or what? I wish I could have a nanny and vacation at the French Riviera. I wouldn't trade it for my non-cheating marriage, but still, sounds nice.

The Other

Novel by David Guterson

Dear book club friends: stop me now. Seriously. It's four days into my summer vacation and I need some light beachy reads or I may never be able to relax. I went from Wild to this, the story of two high school buddies from the late 1970's in Seattle who backpack together and talk exisentialism and Gnosticism. It's too much.

So now that you know how I really feel...this is actually a good book. I truly dislike very few books. I think I appreciate the work that an author put into them, and I like words that are put together well, and I just like to read. Period. It's hard for me to completely pan any book. David Guterson also wrote Snow Falling on Cedars, which is amazing, and East of the Mountains, which is fun to read (even though it's kind of dark in tone) because it's set in my home town of Wenatchee and the surrounding area. I like Guterson's style of rich but real description and deep characterization and his slow burning plots. But I think for me, this one came too close on the heels of another hiking book and too close to Crossing to Safety which shares this book's deep introspections on growing up and classism and loyalty and the nature of knowing others.

The bad news is I already started The Paris Wife, about Ernest Hemingway's first wife, so that doesn't promise to be much lighter. The good news is I have learned my lesson and will be ordering some Jennifer Weiner and young adult fiction books from the library pronto. I hope your summer reading is looking promising! Let me know if you have any great light reads to recommend.

Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail

Memoir by Cheryl Strayed

Don't be confused by the rugged looking boot on the cover. Even I, a committed couch traveler, hater of camping, lover of the idea of nature but not so much the bugs and dirt and other yucky stuff, even I enjoyed this book.

When given the book I looked at the sub-title and thought, "Ha. Me? A hiking book? This must be for my dad." And so it sat on my nightstand for probably a year, next to reference books about writing and three books I've started and just can't finish (Everything is Illuminated,  One Hundred Years of Solitude, Reading Lolita in Tehran: see my post about being a literary fraud), until it was THE LAST BOOK. This is a desperate state for me. I will read my daughter's Highlights magazines if there isn't any other option, so in this condition, I finally picked up Wild.

I found a pleasant surprise. While truly about her hike on the Pacific Crest Trail (a mountain top trail from Mexico to Canada, which Strayed hikes for most of California and all of Oregon), it's also a completely cathartic experience for both writer and reader. Strayed goes on the hike because her mother dies, her siblings scatter, and her marriage dissolves within just a few years. She starts to veer off the path she imagined for her life and needs a new path to walk, so even though she's not an experienced hiker, she decides almost on a whim to do this thing. She encounters every expected but not truly imagined obstacle: bears, lack of water, losing five toenails, rain, snow, heat, and just plain pain. She also meets generous and loving strangers and real characters in unexpected ways and places. All the while Strayed journals and retells her experiences, memories of her mother, self abuse, and self love, hence the subtitle.

The remarkable transparency Strayed displays in her story reminds me of, my favorite, Anne Lamott, but also of Eat, Pray, Love. She simply doesn't back down from anything, both in the wilderness and in her self-exploration. It's endearing rather than off-putting, reminding me of how broken we all are, how close to the brink we could all be if we lost those people most dear to us, the ones who ground us and make us who we are. This seems to be a trend in both books and blogs, as I read Jen Hatmaker and Glennon Doyle and Rachel Held Evans admit over and over again that they don't know what they're doing as women, mothers, humans, but they are just putting it out there so that everyone else can admit the same thing. I can't hike the PCT (I would literally die) but I can be brave like all these women, Strayed included, and be a truth teller, admit that I would be even more of a mess than I am without this huge tribe that is holding me together. For Strayed, her tribe changes both on the trail and after, but she finds one, and find herself within it.

From the Kitchen of Half Truth

Novel by Maria Goodin

My daughter is officially a book gobbler. I told her the other day that buying books for her is a waste because she reads them so fast. But what did I do today but buy her two new ones at the book fair at her school (they were buy one get one free, what else could I do?)  And I am fully aware that her book gobbling ways are inherited straight from me, and I inherited it from my mother, and her mother as well. We should all be banned from Amazon and required to use only our library cards or the earth will soon be depleted of trees.

I read this book in three days. That's not a brag, more of a confession, since it means I really have no life outside of reading-writing-teaching-eating-parenting. Oh well. This is also an incredibly easy book to read. I don't really know why it's so gobble-able, actually. It's the writer's first novel and a tad awkward (though I should be careful not to judge, as I'm currently working on my slightly gangly first manuscript). It's also about an intense life event--a college student returns to her childhood home to take care of her dying mother and discovers her childhood was not really what her mother made it out to be. Despite those factors, it's just very readable, especially coming after the last literary giant I tackled (Crossing to Safety).

The dying mother is a self taught cook and both real food and food metaphor figure heavily in this story. It reminded me of The School of Essential Ingredients, which I previously blogged about, and Garden Spells, which I read recently and loved, but must have been during my blogging hiatus. There's a certain snappiness from School and a dreaminess from Garden Spells that are lacking in this book, but it gave me my other must-haves: set in another place (England), characters who grow and change, a happy ending. It also made me eat a lot. Don't count the number of ice cream sandwich wrappers in my garbage can.

Crossing to Safety

Novel by Wallace Stegner

Do you know the difference between literary and commercial fiction? This is how I understand it: literary means the writer isn't famous until they die. Literary means the books you're assigned in English class. Or if you're an English major or teacher, the books you're supposed to like.

That's this book. Maybe you are better informed than I am, but I had never heard of Wallace Stegner before I picked up this book. It was published 25 years ago, and was Stegner's last novel before his death, but he also wrote or compiled 27 other books and numerous short stories. Still doesn't ring a bell? Me either.

I did like this story: it's told from the perspective of 60-year-old author reminiscing on the most important friendship of his life. When he was a poor college professor with a pregnant wife and new to their college town in the 1930's, they were befriended by a very gregarious college professor and his pregnant wife. While there are many such parallels between the couples, the second couple are exorbitantly rich and that sets in motion some of the ups and downs of a friendship spanning multiple decades. Apparently it's somewhat autobiographical (although Stegner himself says all writing is somewhat autobiographical), and the fact that nothing hugely dramatic happens in the story (aside from illnesses and World War II) is commented on by the main character as what makes good, true literature. It's just a story of real people and the intricacies of relationships.

It was very much something that I may have been assigned to read in college. The figurative language is beautiful, the introspection excruciatingly detailed and realistic. The careful blending of perspective and timeline as the main character looks back on events of forty years earlier is masterful. I could write an essay on it. Maybe I just did. But still, I think I like a little more drama, some shockers, some plot twists. Water for Elephants takes place during the Great Depression and is told as a remembrance, but has a little more pizzazz. Maybe I'm just a commercial kind of girl now.

Evolving in Monkey Town

Memoir by Rachel Held Evans

What, another memoir? I know, I agree, I wanted to read a novel next but this one was on my nightstand and overdue at our public library (which is super awesome and doesn't charge late fees, but I try to be an upstanding citizen and return books on time. I'm a guilt monger that way).

The title of this book is weird, but clearly explained in the opening pages. Rachel Held Evans uses the controversial word "evolve" to describe her idea that Christianity and Christians do and must change. Rachel grew up in Dayton, Tennessee, site of the Scopes Monkey Trial which debated evolution versus creation. She uses her proximity to this historical event as a springboard to discuss her personal evolution from a non-questioning conservative Christian to a question-asking, don't-label-me follower of Jesus without all the trappings that the postmodern church has instilled. She calls it a crisis of faith, but to me it seems more like a coming of age.

And that is the basis of my main reaction to this book. Because Rachel grew up in the Bible Belt amongst very conservative Christians, the ideas that evolution may be right, that homosexuality may not be a sin, that Jesus represents social justice as well as salvation...those were all foreign to her. Questioning what she learned as a child does cause her to have a crisis of faith, because she believed theology was more important than actual relationship with God. I didn't have that problem. I'm not saying I'm more enlightened, just lucky, I guess, that I have a background of God-first, rules-second kind of Christianity. Having a feminist Christian mother probably helps. And while I have developed some ideals of my own that are different from most of my family (I vote mostly Democrat now--gasp!), I would call that growing up.

A small side note on this book is that she takes a trip to India, which she clearly says is to visit her missionary sister despite the vogueishness of such a trip. It reminded me that Anne Lamott describes a visit to India in the last book I read, which reminded me of Eat Pray Love. Aren't those kinds of trends interesting in literature? Maybe I need to take a soul-searching vacation to write about.

Now for some book club business-y items (don't tune out, it's good stuff):

The novel I just started reading looks kind of intense, so it'll likely be a while before I'm done. If so, just to keep you interested, I may be posting the first few pages of MY novel. That's right, the one I've been hinting at writing. I just went to a conference where other writers critiqued my first page and I want to get some more feedback after I make revisions. Be on the lookout!

Also, a question for those of you who buy books for children or teens: how do you determine what is appropriate content for them? I struggle to find books that are at the reading level of my voracious, book-gobbling seven-year-old but still not too mature for her sweet little mind. I also recently lent Water for Elephants to a 7th grader, feeling a little hesitant about the sex scenes and drinking, but she was the one who recommended The Night Circus to me. This is a new issue for me, one I am feeling my way through, and I would appreciate any signposts you can put up for me. Thanks.